


The First Lesson Isn't Always the Hardest

by TheMadKatter13



Series: Homeschooled [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood Sharing, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Consensual Underage Sex, Daddy Kink, Daddy Sherlock, Established Relationship, Extremely Underage, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Human John, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Shota John, Shotalock, Underage Sex, Vampire Sherlock, Vampires, Vamplock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 16:24:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2474699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMadKatter13/pseuds/TheMadKatter13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An innocent question begets a filthy lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Lesson Isn't Always the Hardest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [michi_thekiller](https://archiveofourown.org/users/michi_thekiller/gifts).



> I didn’t used to like shota. Or daddy kink. But then I fell into the terrible trap that is [michi](http://traumachu.tumblr.com/)’s [shotaJohn](http://traumachu.tumblr.com/tagged/shotaJohn/) tag, and I had to start this thing. That was a few months ago. Two days ago, I find out it was her birthday and of course I had to finish this for her.

"Papa, what's 'semen'?"

Just coming home from a freshly-solved case, Sherlock's mind was still organising the data he'd gathered over the last few days in his mind palace and the question took several moments to register. When it did, he stopped dead in his tracks just inside the doorframe, coat halfway down his arms, and looked over to where his little boy was sitting at the kitchen table... and promptly got hard. Within his mouth, his fangs slipped down from his gums and began to throb in tandem with his cock at the sight that greeted him: his little John sitting at the kitchen table, wearing nothing but an adult-sized jumper and mouth and cheeks smeared with a thick white substance. The image simultaneously aroused him so much it made him dizzy and filled him with a white-hot, protective rage at the thought of anyone else touching his little human. A second later, when he noticed the old medical textbook in front of the young boy and one of Mrs Hudson's platters of white-frosted cupcakes at his elbow, he nearly sagged in relief.

Suitably assured that John remained untainted, the vampire resumed taking off his coat and hung it up before joining his precious ward in the kitchen where he stood at the small child's back and waited for his greeting. But John was too caught up in what he was reading, his usually smooth brow wrinkled in concentration as he tried to understand the complex text aimed for those far above his age group. Sherlock found it painfully adorable how badly John wanted to be a doctor, how _John_ had been the one to request that his papa buy the books. But if he was going to be ignored in favour of the tome, maybe he should take them away until the lesson was learnt.

When he cleared his throat and John still didn't look up, Sherlock loosed a huff of fond annoyance and palmed the front of the small throat, stroking the right carotid artery with the pad of his thumb and the left with the pads of his fingers. The fluttering of blood flowing beneath his fingertips only served to make his cock and fangs throb harder as he slid his thumb along the line of the small jaw and up under the small chin, increasing pressure as he went until John's head tilted back to look at him. There was a flush across the chubby cheeks and his boy whispered a quiet "Sorry, Papa" as the detective bent his own head down.

"Mhm..." he hummed quietly, tongue sliding out to lap gently at the frosting covering his boy's face. It took several minutes to clean the sweet substance from the smooth skin, and by the time he was done, John was whimpering and trying to catch the vampire's lips with his own, little tongue darting out to brush enticingly against his larger one. Slowly, he chased John's tongue back into the small mouth, lapping his way inside until chubby fingers clenched at the hem of the overly large jumper where it rested over bare thighs and his human's pulse raced beneath the vampire's long, cool fingers.

Quite familiar with how greedy ( _needy_ ) the young boy could get if Sherlock broke away too quickly, he eased the invasion of his tongue until he could finally break away to speak after laying a chaste kiss upon the smooth forehead. "Where did you learn that word?" Dazed blue eyes blinked up at him for a few moments, confusion pinching the skin between the little boy's eyebrows. When the vampire raised an impatient eyebrow, John's confusion morphed into sudden understanding and he shook his head as if to clear it, dropping his chin down and pulling the textbook in front of him closer to point at a paragraph.

"Right here, Papa." The small finger was indicating a passage regarding the purpose of testicles. The small blond head below him dropped back and stared at him with wide eyes, the motion elongating a delicate neck. Despite his earlier feeding, Sherlock felt his hunger pull at his attention and he had to tear his eyes away from where he could see his young human's blood flow just under the skin. When he finally managed, they dropped back to the writing John was still pointing at and his head cocked in consideration.

"Where you good for me while I was gone, John?" he asked, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirtsleeves.

"Obviously!" John scoffed mockingly. For a moment, Sherlock stared at him in surprise, frozen in the midst of rolling up his sleeves, and John stared back straight-faced. Then the boy's lips twitched right before he broke down into giggles that made the vampire's chest feel warm. "Papa's face," he gasped between laughter. He couldn't help but smile at the clear enjoyment on his little boy's face as he swept the small form into his arms and against his chest. The short, thin legs splayed around his waist, so innocent and yet, so utterly obscene, especially considering the erection no doubt tenting his trousers just below his little boy's arse.

He cupped John's soft, bare bottom with one hand to keep his small human balanced as he carried him to the couch. He had barely sat down before John was pressing their lips together in short, shy little pecks that still had him more erect from their well-intentioned innocence than any past seductress’s experienced touches. He darted his tongue out, poking once at the seam of John's lips and surprising his little boy into startling backwards. Chuckling, he slid his palms under the back of the adult-sized jumper and up along the length of the small spine the small back at the last second, keeping his delicate human from toppling to the floor. John glared at him for a moment before breaking into giggles.

"You wanted to know what semen is, yes?" Sherlock asked when his little boy’s amusement subsided. John nodded his head eagerly. "Would you like a treat for being good for me today?" His little boy’s eyes narrowed in confusion, not understanding the apparent topic change, but he nodded anyway. The vampire smiled at him, a calm, gentle smile, and the tips of his dropped fangs peaked out, drawing his human’s attention.

"Am I going to get Papa’s blood today?" the little boy asked, licking his lips. Startled, the vampire just blinked at him.

"Would you like some?" John just nodded his head eagerly, wriggling in excitement. Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, he did so right on top of Sherlock’s erection. The man had to bite his lip to stop himself from groaning aloud.

It was a strange thing, having someone excited to have his blood. In the past, back when he had been human, money had been measured in how many male pleasure slaves (many younger than John was now) one had, how many wives just past their first moon you had been wed to. Sherlock had never had any of either when he’d been human, but after he’d turned, he’d purchased enough pleasure slaves to provide him a secure source of healthy blood.

After feeding from them, he would always try to give them some of his blood in return to help them recover from the damage he’d caused, and as a way to track his slaves (a vampire could always sense the location of their own blood, even if it resided in another creature). Often, though, if they were aware enough after the feeding, the slaves would reject his offering, believing, incorrectly, that they would become like him as soon as they ingested it. They refused to understand that they had to die before his blood would take effect and initiate the change. John, despite his love of horror movies that promoted the same false propaganda, did not share this belief. It was one of the many things he loved about his small boy.

"Then yes, you shall," he agreed. "But that is not the treat I have in mind for you, my John." Wide eyes looked at him curiously, waiting patiently. "I will show you what semen looks like, where it comes from, and how it comes out."

"Okay!" he said eagerly, shifting on top of Sherlock’s erection again in his excitement. The vampire bit his lip so hard that blood welled beneath the tips of his fangs. Without waiting, John jolted forward, small tongue laving against the small punctures. When those bright blue eyes fluttered and a small, breathy moan was released from the boy’s mouth, Sherlock almost bit through his lip entirely.

"When you drink my blood, what changes do you notice in your body, John?" The warmth of his ward’s skin was seeping through the fabric of his trousers and it took every bit of his control to restrain himself from taking, from piercing, from fucking. John may be able to take him if he were patient enough, but even an adult would require medical care if taken without preparation, much less someone of his little human’s age.

The boy’s brow wrinkled even as his cheeks darkened. "My... my tummy gets warm and my heart gets happy," John said slowly, not meeting his eyes.

"Is that all?" he replied, already knowing the answer. Even when he had been human, Sherlock had never been very good at following societal conventions regarding body parts that were supposed to remain hidden or their functions. His lack of shame in life had carried over and amplified in death.

"My... my pe- my penisgetshard," the young boy said in a rush, face bright red with the blood that had rushed to the surface and eyes studiously averted to the side. Chubby fingers were holding the bottom of the oatmeal-coloured jumper away from his body, clenching the hem tight enough to turn the little knuckles white.

"Mine does as well, John." Wide eyes snapped his way, and the expression on that precious face turned cautiously hopeful.

"It does?" His ward’s voice was tight and a bit afraid, so Sherlock cupped the small jaw and drew John in for a slow kiss before pulling away just as slowly.

"Yes, it does. Would you like to see?" John’s eyes darted from his own eyes to his lips, then away and then back to his eyes before he gave a short nod. Sherlock sank back against the sofa, perching his ward on his knees as he unbuttoned his shirt. Bright blue eyes followed every movement of his fingers, curious rather than hungry, and those little fingers, always ready to test, reached out, seeking contact. He intersected them gently with a single shake of his head and John sat back, this time curling his fingers in the fabric of Sherlock’s trousers. Trousers that he was unbuttoning and unzipping to pull his cock out from its confinement.

He did not have a particularly girthy cock, tending towards the slender side in keeping with his body’s proportions, but it was still thicker than the boy’s and a fair deal longer. Slowly, curiously, John pulled the hem of his jumper up, revealing his lack of pants underneath, as always, and a petite, half-hard cock. Carefully, Sherlock tugged at the jumper and encouraged his boy to strip completely. Though he resisted at first, a fearful look in his eye, John eventually raised his arms over his head, letting the vampire pull the thick material away.

"Papa, I--" John started, crossing one arm over his chest and dropping his other hand to cover his genitals. Sherlock hushed him with the press of a fingertip to the small lips, and his boy quieted immediately.

"Do not be ashamed, John," he said clearly as he eased the small arms out of the way. Just as with the jumper, there was minor resistance before the limbs fell to the side, though John’s eyes turned away as well. "I want you to watch something." Tentatively, the eyes returned to him as he sliced open the pad of his index finger on his fang. _Now_ those blue eyes turned hungry, already anticipating the taste of his blood. He wrapped his other arm around the small waist and slid the boy down his thighs until their cocks were pressed against one another. His little ward was almost panting, confusion blatant in the crease of his forehead as Sherlock shifted his hips, creating the smallest amount of friction between them.

"Papa?" John gasped, face twisted as if he didn't know how to interpret the stimulation. Good. There was no reason for him to already have similar data. Sherlock had long desired to be John’s first _everything_ , ever since he had found the boy at a crime scene, the sole survivor of a serial murderer several months back. And now that was finally coming to beautiful, innocent fruition.

"I feel it as well," he said instead, stroking the soft curve of a thigh with his undamaged index finger. "Now, I want you to look down, all right?" There was a pause before John nodded and dropped his chin. Sherlock dropped his chin as well, resting his temple against John’s, almost coming from just the sight of their cocks pressed against one another, let alone the sensation of it. As they watched, Sherlock wrapped his other arm around the small, blond head, cradling it in his elbow as he curled his fingers around the fragile jaw, carefully pressing the pad of his bleeding finger into the small mouth. "Watch," he whispered, and then John began to suck.

With the first pull, potent lust and arousal shot through Sherlock at the sensation, only made worse by the way their cocks twitched against one another. His finger was released as the small head jerked back with a gasp. "Papa! Papa, did you see-"

"Yes," he murmured, significantly more subdued. "Watch," he redirected in a firm whisper and slipped his index finger back into the wet heat up to the first knuckle. John began to suck at his finger again, small draws that only ignited the fire in the vampire’s veins and made his cock throb harder. The first moan that broke from his mouth made his little human look up, but this time, he did not relinquish the hold on the digit between his lips. In fact, small teeth gripped his finger gently, keeping it in place.

The familiar hazy look induced by the aphrodisiac quality of his blood was nonetheless foreign in his little human’s bright blue eyes, but Sherlock could not say he minded. The sight of John blissed out on the taste and power of his blood (some of the oldest in existence) was one that would be kept in his mind palace for all eternity. And then the small hips against his began to shift, rubbing their cocks together. Finally, John looked down to watch, the loss of those eyes on his freeing Sherlock from the veil of innocence shading the experience so that he could resume watching as well. It was _glorious_.

The arm around his ward’s waist tightened, pressing John as firmly against his cock as he dared to press. The young human’s fragility always a terrible weight on his mind--the fear of hurting the being most precious to him was near-crippling at times--and he never retained as much control in anything else as he did in his handling of John. But it seemed he had nothing to fear in this moment. As soon as he had pulled the boy in his lap closer to him, the teeth around his finger tightened while one hand clutched at his wrist to keep it in place and the other reached out to brace against his shoulder. The fumbling, clumsy movements were only made filthier by the way his little human began to frot eagerly against him once slotted into place, and by the way John never took his eyes from their cocks.

His orgasm was simmering at the base of his spine, ready to tip into a boil, but it was missing something. What that was, however, didn’t click until John’s teeth tightened to a point that would have been painful if he had been human. The suction around his finger increased sharply as the flow of blood from the cut on his finger increased, muffled moans vibrating along the length of the digit as John’s throat worked to swallow the liquid.

"Give me your finger, baby," he whispered, voice hoarse. "Papa needs--" Before he’d even finished speaking, the hand that had previously been propped against his shoulder was shoved at, and nearly into, his mouth. Despite his arousal making him nearly mindless with need, he couldn’t help but chuckle at his boy’s eagerness. As quickly as he could, he scored the pad of John’s index finger with the tip of a fang, relieved when John didn’t flinch; his little human was too far gone in the pleasure of his own rising orgasm and the taste of Sherlock’s blood to notice the pain.

The first taste of hemoglobin over the vampire's tongue made Sherlock moan low and long, and his hips bucked upwards unconsciously. The movement dragged John's glans along his erection in a delicious line of friction and heat that threatened his strained control. Control that was barely keeping the vampire's draws on the finger in his mouth to a bare minimum so he didn’t drain his little human dry. Even now, in the midst of having a long-held desire finally fulfilled, the fear of taking too much was never far from his mind as he drank from the precious being currently in his lap. That threat to his control only increased as his little human writhed against him endlessly, expression tortured and confused as his small body roiled with previously unexperienced sensations and chased after something new and overwhelming.

Assured by the strong grip on his wrist that John would remain in his perch without the support of his arm around the small waist, Sherlock drew the limb back, only to slip his hand between their bodies to wrap his fingers around them both. At the first stroke of their foreskins sliding along their shafts, his boy loosed a high cry that was music to his ears. He used the opportunity to slide his forefinger to the safer space between the flatter molars as he continued to stroke them slowly. John was like a snake in his lap, squirming endlessly, his small cock nearly slipping free from Sherlock's hold.

"Papa? Papa, I'm scared. I--" His boy cut off with a sob around his finger, tears falling from clenched-shut eyes. He would have licked them away if he had a second tongue.

"It's all right, baby," Sherlock whispered encouragingly. "I won't let anything bad happen to you." Nothing in all of his history felt more important in this moment than the need to see John orgasm before he reached his own climax. "Try to relax. Don't try to contain it." His boy's small cock was tight and hot against his, the length smaller than the width of his palm, making it so Sherlock's own cock received far less contact than John's with every stroke. Even still, the vampire was tighter than a string on his violin. He was only awaiting the bow-stroke of his ward's orgasm to make him sing.

He quickened the pace of his wrist as much as he dared and John's body bowed, the small chest and bright pink nipples arching towards Sherlock's while teeth clamped down on his finger. His boy sobbed around the digit in his mouth and his cock released what little semen his barely-developed testicles could produce. It had never been more of a struggle to keep his eyes open as his own orgasm rolled through him, but he had never been quite so desperate to watch the expressions of another before.

John’s face was exquisite in its show. The blissed out look of pleasure made Sherlock’s cock throb harder, pulsing semen over his palm, their cocks, their stomachs. The look of confusion laced with fear made him suck just a little harder on the finger in his mouth, the blood sliding down his throat and calming the bloodlust that had risen as a biological reaction to his sexual lust. As John calmed, however, the teeth on his finger loosened and the biting turned to suckling, the soft, near-ticklish sensation of a small tongue flicking against the wound on the pad of his forefinger only reigniting his arousal. He released the smaller cock to wrap his fingers tightly around his own, stroking himself with a blurring pace, drawing out his orgasm until his vision turned white and his testicles had no more semen to ejaculate.

When his vision cleared, he nearly lost it again at the sight of John face dripping with streaks of the vampire’s come, the bright blue eyes hazy but wide in surprise, lips a perfect ‘o’ around the tip of his finger. His cock twitched, eager to get hard again despite its inability to do so so soon after such a drawn-out release. Even though his ward was the very picture of depravity, John himself was still the picture of innocence. His little boy’s expression turned curious as he dipped his finger into the small puddle of come forming in the basin of their pressed-together pelvises.

"How do you feel, John?" he asked as he pulled his finger free and unwrapped his arm from the back of the small blond head. His little boy immediately torqued to the side, lips parted to take his finger back before he stopped himself. Sherlock’s cock gave another throb in protest at the delicious expression of need across his ward’s face as his little human settled back onto the vampire’s knees. The wound on his finger now closed, he combed his fingers through sweat-damp hair, attempting to project an air of calm and relaxation when all he wanted to do was lay John down and do it all over again. That and more. So much more.

"I feel... fuzzy, Papa," John said, voice hoarse. "My tummy feels fuzzy, but happy. And so do my fingers and my toes and my chest and my nose." There was a brief pause and then his boy broke out into giggles that made the vampire’s chest warm in a way that had nothing to do with sexual arousal and everything to do with wanting to keep his John happy for all of time. His boy leaned forward, and put a hand next to his mouth as if to block an invisible audience from seeing his lips move. "I rhymed," he said in a conspiratorial stage-whisper.

"You did," Sherlock agreed with a soft smile. "My smart boy." John’s face flushed and Sherlock leaned forward to place a kiss to the patch of ejaculate-free skin on the small forehead. "Did you like what we just did?" he asked, voice as neutral as he could make it. He himself wanted nothing more than to continue showing his treasure the pleasures the human body could produce, but if it was something his ward didn’t want him to do, then he would not force himself on John. "Is it something you would be open to doing again?"

Now his little human’s face flamed, the red rising to the surface of his skin off-setting the streaks of white decorating his cheeks, nose, and chin. Those eyes like the clear summer sky turned away from him and Sherlock pulled his hand from the short blond strands to cup the small jaw turn John’s face until their eyes met again. "I will not be upset if you did not like it, but I need you to tell papa the truth, no matter what, all right?" he said steadily. He hoped that the response would be positive, especially considering how beautifully the small body had responded to his whims. But it was equally possible he pushed too hard too soon, and he steeled himself for the negative as well.

"I... I did like it, Papa," John whispered, face growing hotter beneath Sherlock’s palm. "I liked it a lot. I don’t want you to stop." Despite his words, those blue eyes still darted away, refusing to meet his. Assured by his ward’s words, but confused by his actions, the vampire hummed and scored open the pad of his same finger, right along the red line of the barely-healed first wound, before swiping his finger through a steak of come on John’s cheek and holding it up to the boy’s lips.

"If you liked it, why will you not look at me, John?" he asked, waiting for the small lips to wrap around the tip of his finger. Blue eyes darted towards his and then away, and then back again.

"It felt... weird," John finally admitted. "I was... It was scary, Papa." Perhaps this was a topic they should pursue. Sherlock quickly swiped the come and blood from his finger, the cut healing instantly with the application of his saliva, and lowered his hand to curl around smooth hip and cup a smoother bottom to keep his cargo steady as he settled back against the cushions.

"You know that I will never allow harm to come to you, correct?" he asked, and his ward’s head nodded emphatically. "Good," he acknowledged with a smile that made John smile back with a light blush and Sherlock forced himself to ignore the come still spattered over his little boy’s face. The need to lick it free like he’d licked away the cupcake frosting or to feed it to his little human in combination with his blood warred with the need to allay John’s fears and sort out his confusion. "Could you explain why you were scared?"

"My mind got all fuzzy and I felt really happy. Like really really _really_ happy! So happy I couldn’t stand it! And my penis was doing weird things and I didn’t know what they were but it kinda felt like I had to pee and I didn’t want to pee on you and it- It was just a lot, Papa!" John was panting slightly after his little monologue and Sherlock had to fight to keep a smile from his face.

"That feeling you had right here?" He stroked the tip of his unwounded finger low on John’s belly, along where it was still bare, but would soon fill in with hair. If Sherlock didn’t turn him first. A small, pink tongue darted out and he had the pleasure of sensing the increased flow of blood below his little human’s skin and seeing pupils dilate, making the bright blue rings around them disappear. "I had the same feeling. It’s called ‘arousal’. It contributes to your penis becoming erect. Once your penis is erect, your arousal can increase with stimulation until you ejaculate."

His little boy’s brow was furrowed in confusion, and Sherlock forced himself to reign in his speech patterns. He did not cater to ‘baby talk’ as so many human parents did, but spoke to John as if his ward was of similar age to him. His little boy did his best, and in fact, did a fair deal better than humans four times his age, but there were some words and concepts that he did not yet have the life experience to grasp.

"When you drink my blood, and when I touch you in certain ways, your penis will get hard," he rephrased, reminding himself to speak a bit slower as well. "If I touch your penis enough, you will feel that same happiness here," he paused to tap his finger to his little boy’s sternum, "and here," a tap to the boy’s belly, "and then it will come out here," he finished, gently tapping the tip of the small, flaccid penis.

"So... When I was sucking Papa’s finger, and Papa’s penis was hard, it was because Papa was happy here?" John asked, placing his small hand flat to Sherlock’s belly, low enough that the heel of his hand brushed the short, dark curls of the vampire’s pubic hair.

"Correct, John," he murmured. The small hand was pulled back, though the drying come on Sherlock’s stomach had their skin trying to stick together. John frowned turned his hand to his face, peering curiously at his palm and the come visibly smeared across it.

"Is this semen?" John asked, head tilted in that adorable way of his when his mind worked to connect old information with new.

"Yes," the vampire replied. "It forms in your testicles," he started, touching the tip of a finger to the small, hairless globes, "then moves through your insides," he continued, tracing vague lines above the small, limp cock, "and then disperses through your penis," he finished with a sweep along the flaccid flesh.

Slowly, his little human raised his palm to his face, then gave his palm a tentative lick. The small nose wrinkled, and it was clear John was trying to determine how acceptable he found the taste and texture. "Try it like this, baby," Sherlock murmurred. He reopened the wound on his finger pad before carefully swiping the uninjured tip through the come across John’s left cheek. He held up the white- and red-covered finger to his boy’s perusal. After a minute of staring, two sets of chubby fingers curled around his hand and held it still as soft lips enveloped the proffered digit, a gentle tongue sweeping over the liquid on his finger.

It was immediately clear that he had made the right decision as John’s eyes fluttered and a moan vibrated down his finger and into Sherlock’s cock. The boy in his lap squirmed closer, one hand uncurling from around the vampire’s to cling to one of the halves of Sherlock’s open shirt, trying to eliminate any distance between them. Carefully, he began to pull his finger away and his little boy glared at him and gripped tighter with teeth and fingers alike.

"John, we can’t clean you up if you don’t let go." His ward narrowed his eyes at him, clearly considering the pros and cons of releasing the cleaned finger for a fresh replenishment. Finally, the grip of fingers and teeth relinquished and Sherlock pulled his hand back to slice open the pad of a second finger before he drew his finger through the mess on the eager face before him. For a second time, he held up his offering, spread over two fingers rather than one, and this time, John did not hesitate to suck down the digits. The lithe tongue swept over and between, thoroughly cleaning blood and come from his skin, and his little human barely finished before he shoved the vampire’s hand back at him, licking his lips.

Slowly, streak by streak, Sherlock offered his ward come from their skin and blood from his fingers, all the while fighting temptation to simply bend over and lick the come from John’s skin. Or have his little human do the same to him. But the fluttering of his boy’s eyes became less based in pleasure and more in exhaustion, and eventually, they fell closed and stayed that way, John’s hands still holding Sherlock’s fingers inside his mouth. Smiling softly in the way only this being could incite, the vampire kept the small, naked form cradled against his chest as he stood. The motion, however, caused the various states of drying come on their skin to gum up and crack, and the soft expression morphed into a grimace at the sensation.

He left the small form on his sheets as he dampened a washcloth with warm water before setting to work cleaning first John’s chest, thighs, and penis before rinsing out the cloth and cleaning off his own skin. When he was finally satisfied, he glared at the late hour on his clock and assured his heavy curtains were set in place against the rising sun before stripping and crawling into bed. While he did not require the heat gained by being covered with a duvet, his ward was fragile and susceptible to the cold, and Sherlock pulled the small back against his chest as the fabric settled over them.

A small hand surprised him by clumsily grabbing for the arm draped around the small waist and he lifted it obligingly. Chubby fingers held his wrist in place by the warm mouth as soft lips nipped at his fingers, suckling gently at the tips.

"Go to sleep, John," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the soft, blond hair. Despite his command, the body in his arms squirmed and wriggled until John was finally facing him, blinking up at him with bleary eyes. Sherlock cocked his head and waited, curious to see what his ward would do. A bit awkwardly, the boy crawled up the sheets till his head was on level with the vampire’s before he seemed to lose his balance, falling face-forward into the laying man’s cheek. It wasn’t until Sherlock felt the pressure of pursed lips traveling over his jaw to his mouth that he realised his little human was trying to kiss him goodnight.

It was easy to occupy John with soft kisses as he rolled the boy to his back before drawing away, curling up against and around the small form protectively. Once again, his boy turned to face Sherlock, but this time, he only wiggled forward to press his face against the man’s bare chest.

"I love you, Papa," he felt more than heard murmured against his skin. "G’night." Despite himself, the vampire could feel his heart swell at the ritual words, eyes tingling with tears he could no longer shed. It was fascinating how, after centuries of nothing more than apathy towards what he had once been, he could feel so much emotion for one small being. One small being who placed all their trust and love in him. Trust and love he would do everything in his power to keep.

"I love you too, baby," he whispered back, pressing a lingering kiss to the blond hair as puffs of soft breath from his already-unconscious ward fanned across the bare skin of his chest.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> That was oddly fluffy, all things considered. I do plan on there being two more parts, though I’m not sure when they’ll be out. 
> 
> If you enjoyed, then spread the love and reblog the [thing](http://themadkatter13fanfiction.tumblr.com/post/100373574438/the-first-lesson-isnt-always-the-hardest)! :3 Tschüß~


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